Rivers and Roads
by RootlessTree
Summary: "Never mind that I had just graduated college and had an internship with an office view of the Space Needle. Never mind that I had just signed a lease on a new apartment. Never mind I was missing my college roommate's wedding. When you're brother abandons your crippled father, whose idea of a nice meal is untoasted Poptarts, you come home." Rachel Black is back in La Push.
1. Chapter 1

**Hello all! So I am super intrigued by imprinting and I love reading imprinting stories so I decided to start my own. I love Paul/Rachel particularly because I just know she would give Paul a run for his money. There need to be more Paul, Rachel stories. Obviously I own nothing but always appreciate feedback and reviews! Thanks!**

They say when you experience a trauma or emergency your body has two options: fight or flight. I suppose it's true for most people, but I've never found it to be incredibly valid in my life. Maybe my whole family's nervous systems are wired wrong. It wouldn't surprise me. The Blacks don't have anything in them but fight. Fight to keep your sanity. Fight for what you think is right. Fight with each other. It's just the way we are.

Of course we all fight in different ways, Rebecca, by proving to the world (and most everyone it in it) that she hated it, Jake, by showing the world he could still laugh, and me by telling the world that it had nothing I couldn't handle. The problem I've found with fighting though is that after a while, maybe even years of it, it's time for a retreat. Retreating might look a whole lot like the "flight" option, but it has a key difference: you only retreat after trying to fight and finding out you will not win.

The Blacks do not retreat easily, considering how quickly we are to call ourselves to arms, but when we retreat we do it well. We get the hell out.

It is because of this mutual retreating tendency that I find myself laying in my childhood bedroom, staring up at the ceiling fan that is failing to cool down my room by circling lazily above my head. My foot kicks out to the beat of my father's old Fleetwood Mac record. He hasn't touched his record collection since mom died. In highschool I asked him if I could keep them in my room and he seemed relieved to be rid of them. They had taken up a huge amount of space in the corner of the room, much to Becca's chagrin.

I've only been in my hometown of La Push for forty-eight hours and I already feel suffocated. Not even Fleetwood Mac's "Rumours" album is helping much and that's when you know it's bad. The truth is I retreated from here a long time ago. I threw my hands up and said "That's it La Push! You win! My white flag is waving!" and packed for Seattle University the next month. I never had to look back until now.

My brother has had his own white flag moment, unknowingly calling me in as his reinforcements. Jake, the one who was always fighting to stay here more than any of us, finally ran a week ago. And when I say ran, I mean ran. Apparently no one knows where he is or what he's doing. So you can see that when Sue Clearwater called me three days ago to tell me the news, and to say that my father would never ask for help but certainly needed it, I had no choice but to pack my overused luggage and drive back.

Nevermind that I had just graduated college and had an internship with an office view of the Space Needle. Nevermind that I had just signed a lease on a new apartment. Nevermind I was missing my college roommate's wedding. When you're brother abandons your crippled father, whose idea of a nice meal is untoasted Poptarts, you come home. That's written in the Older Sibling Handbook somewhere I think. I mean maybe not in so many words, but it definitely says something like: "When younger sibling is a complete ass, it remains your job to fix his or her damn mess" .

So now I'm here, in a raggedy green "La Push High" teeshirt and cut off shorts I haven't worn since senior year because I didn't bring enough casual " Rez friendly" clothes. My college outfits of skirts, cardigans, and professional looking dresses still lay crumpled in my unopened duffel bag. I tap my fingers against my stomach and notice how ridiculous my manicured nails look now that I'm in my old clothes again. I ball my hands into fists so I don't have to look at them anymore. I wonder what high school Rachel would think of me now.

I'm better when I'm moving. Mom always used to make me jog around the house a few times before she would help me study for a test or else I'd drive her mad with all of my squirming. I'm better when I have something important to think about. I'm better when I'm focused. Right now I have nothing. No plans, no friends, no job, just my dad and the Clearwaters, who have joined us for dinner every night since I got back. Seth has been bugging me to go to the beach with him to "hang out with the guys", but I've respectfully declined each time. I'm not sure why but this seems to please Leah, who smiles very little these days. They both look about a decade older than they did last time I was here, and I don't think it's because they've both grown a foot and a half in height. I want to talk to Leah about Harry. I want to apologize for not coming back for the funeral. I want to see if she got my flowers. When I look her in the eye though it all gets caught in a lump in my throat and I promise myself I'll try again soon. I scold myself for being such a coward.

"Ray! We're back!" My dad's voice rings up the stairs and I jump at the sound.

I dash out of my room, grateful to no longer be alone with my thoughts. "Hey Daddy! Hey Sue! How was counsel business?" I leap down the stairs two at a time.

"It was...productive. Never a boring day here in La Push." Sue says lightly as she pushes my father through the doorway. I raise my eyebrows in a hopes to convey that I doubt that last statement very much.

"Sure. Petty crimes and meddling kids causing drama for you lot?" I follow them in the livingroom and lean in the doorway. The house looks impeccably clean thanks to me scrubbing down every inch of it yesterday. My hands are still raw.

My father laughs, "I don't know about petty crimes, but you're right about the drama. Especially the boys." He and Sue exchange a knowing look, eyes dancing with amusement. I find that these secret conversations happen a lot between the Clearwaters and my father.

I want to say something about that being the reason Jake has taken to theatrical levels of drama but keep my mouth shut. I know from my limited experience that mentioning Jake will just lead to more secret looks, knowing smirks, and not so subtle lip biting. It will make me feel foolish. I don't mind being left out but I hate feeling foolish.

Instead I say, "So what should we do for dinner? Chinese last night so maybe...Italian?"

Sue has taken her usual place on the couch next to where my father parks his chair. I'm grateful for their friendship and one day I hope to thank her properly for everything she's done for us. I wish I could talk to her about Harry too. I hug her very tightly when I get the chance instead.

"Well honey I was actually hoping you could do me a favor." She says her dark eyes gleaming with mischief even though I can't imagine why.

I jump at the chance, literally straightening from my slouched position in the doorway. Rachel Black here, absentee daughter and friend with four years of guilt to atone for, at your service! "Of course Sue! Anything!"

She smiles widely at me. "I was actually hoping you could drive Seth to First Beach tonight? His friends are having a get together and I would hate for him to miss it because we have plans with Charlie."

And now I know why she is smirking at me like a little minx. She is trying to get me to socialize, just like Seth has been since the first moment I saw him. They seem to be under the impression that me hanging out with a bunch of kids several years younger than me will fill some social interaction void.

"Sure! Of course!" No backing out now I guess, which is why my father looks pleased. They act as though being held up in your childhood bedroom with a bunch of dusty records and old clothes is not an enjoyable way to spend a Friday night as a twenty-one year old. (It's not by the way but I fail to see how hanging out with a bunch of sixteen year olds will be much of an improvement.) "What's Leah up to tonight?" I ask hopefully. Maybe I can duck out and spend some time with someone who's actually old enough to drink red wine with me.

"She's...uh….working this evening." Sue explains, nervously drumming her fingers on the arm of the couch.

"Working? Where does Leah work? She didn't mention it!" I question. Not that she mentions much at our dinners. I've made it a personal goal to get her to crack a smile at least once before dessert each time. No luck yet.

"She's...a security guard." My dad chimes in, he drums his fingers less than Sue when he lies but I notice his eyes shift the slightest bit which is an instant clue. Weirdos.

"Oh. Well that's…" I search for the right word.. "cool." I finished lamely. "She'll have to teach me some self defence moves sometime. I'm about as intimidating as a Chiwawa."

"I actually think Leah would really like that." Sue says so honestly it almost shocks me.

I smile and make a note to text Leah next week about hanging out.

"Rachel lets gooooo!" Seth, all limbs, loudness, and livelihood stumbles through our doorway without knocking. I'm not in the least bit shocked. He offers no explanations as to where he has been or why he has apparently walked to our home. I am not shocked about this either.

He rushes in to kiss his mom on the cheek before coming to drape an arm around me. I used to be taller than Seth, now he towers over me so significantly he has to hunch to rest his chin on my head. I don't even bother batting him away this time and rest my hands on his forearm that is stretched across me in a half hug.

"I see you are all in cahoots about this. I get it. I'll go." Everyone laughs at this and I untangle myself from Seth to make a show of gathering my keys off the coffee table.

"I just want a chance to check out that fancy new ride of yours." Seth winks down at me and indicates my Land Rover in the driveway. He reminds me so much of my own little brother sometimes it shocks me. "Besides," he adds, "the guys are dying to see you. Embry's convinced he's going to impri…." he stops himself short and our parents eyes go wide as saucers, "impress you with his new workout regimen."

Everyone relaxes.

"Well Embry Call has been an insufferable little flirt from the womb on and I can't wait to knock sense into him." I tease. It's no secret that Embry has always my favorite of Jake's friends. I was not aware that Seth was close to him. A lot changes in four years and I suppose it's not any of my business.

I kiss my dad and Sue on the cheek in succession. They are both beaming at me. "I love you both. Tell Charlie I won't do without you tomorrow and if he wants to see you he can join us for dinner. I'll cook"

My father laughs at this and shoos me along. "We'll let him know. Now go have fun kiddo."

"Let's go, idiot." I pull Seth by the elbow to the door and I think he might actually jump out of his skin in excitement.

The drive to First Beach is filled with Seth's excited chatter. I don't mind at all, it's nice to see that the kid is doing so well after Harry. The Clearwaters feel like home as much as my own family does. "Family friends" does not cover our relationship by a long shot. Seth is my brother and Leah, despite her perpetual indifference, is my sister. She reminds me of how Rebecca was after mom, a hurricane of anger, unafraid to rip through anyone, including herself. I know it all too well.

I get too lost in my own head and as we pull up to the beach I realize I haven't registered anything Seth has been saying. He doesn't seem to notice as I throw the car in park.

"And Sam said I shouldn't even invite you but…."

I don't turn off the engine as Seth unbuckles his seatbelt. There's a large group of people gathered down by the water and I feel suddenly apprehensive. This is what I ran from. It seems like a pitiful return to show up in a messy ponytail and the same kind of outfit I would have been wearing years ago. I feel fifteen again. I wonder if I will look as different to the people of La Push as the people of La Push look to me.

"Rach? Rach you coming?" Seth has taken a breath long enough to notice my hesitation.

"Seth…Bub..." I run an agitated hand through my hair, "I don't know if this is a good idea. You should just go have fun with your friends. Text me when you're done and I'll come get you."

Seth looks truly agast. "Um no. That ruins the whole point."

I scoff at this and still don't make a move to turn off the car engine.

"Look," He says, clearly frustrated but still pleasant, as only Seth can be, "if you have a terrible time we can leave at sundown. If not you have to throw the football around a little with me." He looks at me with his chocolate brown eyes and makes a face that is so completely pathetic I wonder how anyone tells him no.

I look up at the sky. It's late afternoon, almost dinner time, sundown could only be a few hours away at most."Ugh. Fine. I'll stay till sundown, but only sundown deal?" I pull the keys out of the ignition and Seth whoops in triumph. Several people look our way from the beach.

"You seriously won't regret it Ray." Seth is practically singing, "The guys are awesome and I have money on how many of them will ask you out no matter how much Jake would hate it."

I slam my door shut and take a deep breath. I think my heart might split in two. It smells like home and the beach and my mother. The damp air weighs heavily over us despite the rare bout of sunshine. Everything is just like I remembered it. I curse my throat for constricting slightly. People change, people leave, people die, but First Beach is the world timecapsule, forever frozen in sameness. I reach down to run my hands over the rocks quickly. Seth looks at me strangely but says nothing as I right myself and continue.

We continue walking toward the water and the group of people boisterously tossing a frisbee back and forth. I shove Seth playfully with my shoulder. He doesn't even budge and I rub my now sore arm. Since when was Seth such a human rock? "Let's hope none." I finally say. "No asking out of Rachel would be preferable." I answer his previous statement dryly.

"Why? You spoken for gorgeous?" I jump at the sound of a new, but all too familiar voice. Embry Call. Was he so close a moment ago?

"EM!" I scream as he catches me up in his arms. I am flinging myself around his neck without thinking as I get lifted off my feet in a scorching, bone crushing, hug. It feels like how Jake used to hug me.

I'm surprised by how genuinely happy I am to see Embry and feel a pang in my chest when I realize how right it would be for Jake to be here next to Seth. Could I have missed home, and these people so much without even realizing it?

"Seriously though," Embry puts me down and looks me in the eye very intentionally, "you got a college boyfriend Rach?"

The flirting is a farce and we both know it, but I still see a bit of disappointment in his features as his eyes search mine. I don't understand but I hear a few people snicker behind him.

"It doesn't matter to you if I do or don't Embry Call, you're twelve." I straighten my shirt out and smile up at him.

"Correction," He slings his arm around me and falls into step beside us. "I was twelve when you left me here broken hearted and alone but now I have grown into the man of your dreams."

I try to duck out from under him but he holds me fast. He is strong. I can't help but laugh and shriek as I struggle a bit against his single arm. I give up promptly because I don't want to end up looking ridiculous. The whole beach is looking our way, probably thinking I'm the twelve year old.

"You're outrageous Call." I try to sound harsh but he and Seth just bark with laughter.

"And you're beautiful and long awaited presence is anticipated." He doesn't release his hold on me as he steers us toward the crowed. As we approach I resist the urge to shrink into him. I find I am actually quite grateful for his and Seth's presence on either side.

"Everyone," Seth says to the group of people who is just continuing to stare and smile, "this is Rachel, Rachel this is everyone."

And I'm thrown into warm greetings. I meet so many boys who look so preposterously similar that my head is practically spinning by the end of it. They are all warm, towering, and incredibly shirtless. I'm grateful when I get to one I actually know. Quil, the third party of Jake's Musketeers, greets me with a warm hug briefly before rushing off to catch a little girl who was toddling her way over to the ocean and clapping in delight as the waves lap at her toes.

I'm actually quite shocked by how few females are present. One of the mere two approaches me warmly and grasps my hand tightly. The first thing I notice is her scars, three long ones from hairline to chin, pulling one side of her mouth down in a perpetual frown. The second thing I notice is that she is beautiful. She has feminine features, a round face, and kind eyes. Despite her scars I see that she is soft and delicate in a way I will never be. I am all angles, sharp elbows, boney legs, and high cheek bones. I feel jagged in her presence.

"I'm Emily, it's so nice of you to join us tonight Rachel." Her voice is tender, "We've been missing your brother." She gives my hand a supportive squeeze before releasing it. I find I squeeze back. She's the first person I've met to show a certain level of sympathy for my concern about my little brother.

"Thank you Emily," I say, and find myself meaning it, "I'm glad I came." I don't know if I mean that yet or not. "It's so kind of you all to include me."

"Embry insisted you come." Sam, Leah's ex-boyfriend, comes to wrap himself adoringly around Emily. He was two years older than me in school but I saw him often enough at functions Leah would drag him to. He doesn't look like the same person anymore, though I'm sure I don't to him either after all these years.

"It's good to see you again Sam!" I say, hopefully politely.

"You too Rachel Black." With Sam so close Emily seems suddenly unaware of me and she leans up to kiss Sam on the cheek. I'm not sure why I find myself blushing and looking down at my feet.

Sam and Emily are kind enough to engage me in some small talk. They ask me about my school, what I've been up to since I've been back, and what I think I might do now. I want to ask them questions too but turning to Sam and saying "Seems as though you've gone and got yourself a new girlfriend, which is cool, I guess, unless you're Leah Clearwater…" seems slightly inappropriate. I notice that Embry and Seth have abandoned me completely for frizbee and general rough housing. I'm grateful that neither Sam, nor Emily seem inclined to join in anytime soon even if I'm running out of things to say. Sam leans down to grab a beer from a cooler and hands it to me without even asking me if I want it. I think I might kiss him I'm so thankful.

I crack it open to take a long swig. It tastes like the cheap beer I associate with La Push and I love it.

"HEADS UP!" I hear mid swallow. I see a shadow above my head only a millisecond too late. A football crashes into me at an alarming velocity. I am flying to the ground and my beer is launched above my head only to land all over me as I fall into a pile on the floor.

The beach is deadly silent.

I am laying spread eagle, full snow angel status, on the rocks of First Beach looking up at the sky...it's cloudy now, I note. The entire contents of my beer has spilled onto my shirt and hair and I note a sharp pain my my temple.

"Um fucking OW!" I say sitting up too fast and clutching my head. Seth and Embry are rushing to my side and Emily, who has already knelt beside me is shooing them away. I notice Quil grab the small girl and cover her ears, giving me a stern look for my profanity.

I'd be sorry if I didn't mean it so much.

"Rach are you alright? I'm so sorry!" Seth rocks back on his toes and looks immensely guilty.

I rub my head and try blinking my eyes a few times. Kid's got an arm on him.

"Yeah Sethy, I'm fine." I look down at my ruined clothes, grateful I hadn't chosen to wear anything nicer. I let out a shaky laugh and let Emily help me to my feet. "No harm done." I hope it sounds good natured.

Everyone is sharing knowing looks, Sam's brow is deeply furrowed, and Seth looks nervous. I get the same feeling I do when my dad looks at Sue knowingly. The sense of being an outsider. La Push is a tight knit group that I no longer belong in.

Frustrated at myself for even coming, I sigh. "I should get going. You know, change and stuff." I want a bubble bath and a glass of wine.

Emily looks at me tenderly but nods in understanding. The rest of the group resumes somewhat normal behavior, turning from me to start conversing amongst themselves. The evening suddenly feels chillier now that I've been doused in beer. I shiver.

Embry picks up a discarded sweatshirt tossing it in my direction.

"Here, take this. We don't need it."

I smile at him gratefully and pull it on over my clothes. It's massive on me, the sleeves coming past my hands by a good three inches and covering my shorts entirely . Was everyone a giant in La Push now?

Seth is still sheepish and agrees to come home with me without much coercion. We are just bidding everyone goodbye when an angry voice rings out above all the rest.

"Where the hell did you assholes put my sweatshirt!?"

And I freeze, feeling a bit guilty, but also incensed, and turn only to see the most attractive man I've ever seen.


	2. Chapter 2

**_Hey all. Thank you so SO much for all of your reviews/ favorites/ follows. I promise to try and post regularly though my school schedule can sometimes be crazy. This story might move a bit slower than some of the imprint stories you are used to and that is intentional. Rachel is a big girl with big things going on in her life and Paul is only one of those. Her relationship with her father, brother, Leah, and even Embry (don't worry not in any romantic way) will come into play as the story continues._**

 ** _I hope you all enjoy this chapter and once again would love your feedback/reviews!_**

 ** _Chapter 2_**

As I stare, the handsome stranger turns his scowl toward me. I don't know why but when his heated gaze sweeps over me I hold my breath. He is glorious. Tall, tan, and not unlike many of the guys here on the Rez. He is _not_ like them though. He is shirtless, sweatpants clinging low to his hips, and the sun is setting behind his shoulder and the orange and pink hues of it are reflecting off the water. I almost catch my breath. I can't help but think that I've never seen anything so beautiful. A gentle breeze tugs at his shortly cropped dark hair.

I look at him for a moment, noting that from this distance his eyes look so dark they could almost be black. Maybe they are. I have a weird desire to take a few steps closer and check. He freezes, dark eyes growing wide in what could be terror.

The beach, which was filled with the murmur of pleasant conversation only moments ago, grows eerily quiet. Or maybe I just don't notice them anymore.

The man just stands there rigidly, mouth falling slightly ajar.

"You have got to be _kidding_ me." I hear Seth grumble from my elbow but I don't respond.

I take a step forward, trying to give off an air of confidence I certainly do not feel. "Um… sorry. That would be my fault." I try to grin. Men have never made me nervous and I'm not about to let them start to now. Certainly not one from La Push who's probably pals with my brother. "I've got a bad sweatshirt stealing habit. It's really becoming a problem. Couldn't resist this one. It's the perfect fit."

I smile again, trying to break the intensity with some sort of levity. My dad always told Becca and I that we could get away with murder by blinking our big brown eyes and smiling. Up until this moment of my life that statement had been fairly true. Turning a paper in late? Apologetic smile to the professor and an unexplained extension! Long line at a club? Flirtatious wink and a grin to an unsuspecting bouncer and instant entry!

Apparently this guy is not affected by me. He clearly doesn't think I'm funny. Or charming. His face is still completely blank, only his eyes move to rake up and down my body at a torturous pace. Goose bumps erupt across my skin. I hear someone scoffing in the distance. I don't know why but I take a step closer. His nostrils flare. I realize I probably reek of cheap beer and look like some sort of vagrant in his too large sweatshirt. He probably can't even tell if I'm wearing pants. What a first impression.

I run my fingers through my hair nervously wishing Seth or Embry or anyone would come to my rescue. No one on the beach moves, and I can feel their eyes on us.

I pry the sweatshirt off, slipping it over my head and balling it into my arms. He still says nothing. This dude must be pissed about his freaking sweatshirt.

"Here." I say walking over to him and shoving it into his arms. So much for chivalry not being dead. I try not to look at his naked chest. "Thanks anyway."

He takes the hoodie in his arms silently. Now that I am closer to him I can truly feel the heat of his gaze. He towers over me, taking up the whole sky. His bare chest rises and falls rapidly, like he's trying to catch his breath.

I narrow my eyes into something of a glare and turn on my heels to walk away from him. I think I hear something that might be a whimper but I know I must have imagined it. "Asshole." I mutter under my breath, trying to save some of my dignity. "Let's go Seth!" I call over my shoulder fishing my keys out of my back pocket.

Seth hesitates and looks between the stranger and I before shrugging and jogging to my side. The rest of the party, and the stranger, remain frozen. I notice that the only person smiling is Emily.

I wave at her before getting into the safety of my car and revving the engine. Lesson learned. I'm never coming to one of these things again no matter how much Sue Clearwater tries to guilt me into it.

Seth slips into the passenger seat beside me, the previous shock on his face replaced with an infuriating grin.

I turn on the radio and whip out of our parking spot, anxious to return home. Seth is practically bouncing in his seat. What a weird kid.

"You need a ride home or want to come back to our place?"

His grin grows wider, if that is even humanly possible. "Oh," he says, an unmistakable note of mischief in his voice, "I definitely want to come home with you. Billy and mom are gonna freak."

I shoot him an icy glare before turning my attention back to the road. "Why would they freak out?" I wrack my brain for any possible reason. "Oh Jesus. Was there not supposed to be beer there? So help me God Seth if you are underage drinking…"

He raises his hands in surrender amusement still dancing on his features. "No, no not that kind of freak out. It's just with…" He looks like he is about to continue before stopping himself short and reconsidering what to say. "It's nothing. Honestly forget I said anything."

"Whatever." I bite out immaturely returning my full attention to the road. I feel like an idiot. Not only did I embarrass myself for being a magnet for trouble and clumsiness, I also had to suffer the fairly public dismissal of the hottest guy I've ever encountered. What the hell? As far as social interaction goes I'm no fool. I was homecoming queen and vice president of my senior class, not to mention a member of one of the most exclusive sororities on campus in college. I'm certainly not the one who's socially backwards. Why do these people make me feel that way?

When I pull into the driveway and hop out of the car I am still feeling annoyed. The way my shirt has formed to my body in a sticky mess of dirt and beer isn't exactly helping. Still, Seth bounds through the front door as if we've just had the time of our life. I wonder if he is immune to sour moods after spending so much time with Leah.

"We're back!" Seth practically sings. My dad and Sue are sitting watching some sort of baseball game and I am reminded of what a saint she is. I wonder how many hours she's spent in front of our television watching sports she doesn't care about just to keep my father company. "We had a very….interesting time didn't we Ray?"

I snort, and Sue and my father turn their attention our way. "Yeah. Seth's friends are interesting to say the least." I say the word "interesting" like it's the most derogatory term in the human language. My dad tilts his head to the side at this. Being negative isn't generally my thing.

"What happened?" My father's tone is somewhat cautious, looking between Seth and I with a mixture of concern and curiosity.

When it becomes apparent that I will not respond Seth is more than willing to launch into the tale with wide hand gestures and pauses to catch his breath from laughing too much.

"And then Paul showed up" He continued, his eyes twinkling "and Rachel was…."

"Not at all impressed." I finish for him. "Seriously Seth you need to get some new friends. I don't like you hanging out with guys like that."

At this Seth howls with laughter so loudly I almost cover my ears. Sue and my father look just as perplexed as to why this would be so funny. Seth is still laughing and clutching his sides when he asks me, "You really don't like him then?"

I furrow my eyebrows and cross my arms. "Obviously not." This sends Seth into an even larger fit of laughter to everyone else's confusion. "I'm going to take a bath." I say flatly before turning to go up the stairs. Seth's chuckles follow me.

By the time my bath is filled with fragrant bubbles and I have eased myself in from the side I hear murmured conversations coming from downstairs. Though I can't catch what anyone is saying I can tell my father's tone firm. Another, louder male voice rings above the rest and I jump in surprise. Someone must have come while I was running the bath. Seth's usually gleeful voice certainly doesn't sound like that. I don't catch much of what he says other than, "Of course I would never lose control!" and then someone promptly shushes him. I can tell whoever is down there is pacing back and forth in the livingroom. I hear yet another unfamiliar male voice begin to murmur and I roll my eyes. It's all probably La Push nonsense no one will tell me about.

I effectively tune them out after that. Obviously they think it's no business of mine and far be it from me to push myself somewhere I'm not wanted. In that instant, soaking among my lavender scented bubbles, I make up my mind to let it all go. Tomorrow, I'm going to get back into some sort of routine. I'm not going to waste time here frittering away precious moments just because my plans have temporarily changed. I am certainly not going to spend more time thinking about that stupid La Push guy who hurt my pride. I'm certainly not going to think about his stupid naked chest either.

I wrap a towel around myself and go to my room. Instead of poking my head downstairs to see who might be there I turn up a Stevie Wonder record to drown them out and finally unpack my things.

The next morning I stick to my resolutions. I wake up early, earlier than my father who was up late into the night discussing things with whoever it was downstairs, and go for a run. The morning air is crisp but the sunrise over the water is so beautiful that it almost makes me happy to be home. I don't go far, but I'm sweaty and out of breath by the time I return. I shower quickly, drying and curling my hair before throwing on makeup one of my sundresses. No more old t-shirts and cutoffs for me thank you.

By the time I'm back downstairs my father is up and clanging around the kitchen.

"Morning daddy." I say, sweeping in to kiss his cheek and snatch the orange juice out of his grasp so I can pour him a glass.

"Mornin' darlin'." He responds, "You were up early. Big plans for today?"

I take my seat next to him at our kitchen table and pour myself a bowl of granola. "I guess," I shrug, "I was going to run to Port Angeles and pick up some things for the house."

With Jake and my father being the only occupants in this home for the past four years the interior design is lacking to say the least. My childhood home looks more like a bachelor pad than a space that is actually suitable for living.

There is a twinkle of humor in my father's eye. "Stuff for the house?" He asks, "What stuff for the house?"

I scoff at this, taking a large bite of my cereal. "New curtains for one." I say, pointing over his shoulder with my spoon indicating some ratty brown curtains barely hanging by frayed threads. "Those didn't look good a decade ago and they certainly don't look good now. And you need some throw pillows too, maybe even a house plant and some scented candles."

My father's chuckle is deep and affectionate, "It's good to have you home Rach."

We chat for the next hour, simply enjoying being in one another's presence. It's been so long since I had more that a fifteen minute conversation on the phone with my father and I can't remember the last time we sat around the table together when it wasn't a holiday. I hadn't realized I missed him so much until this moment.

That's when I realise despite all the secrets and all my annoyance at Jake I'm actually glad to be here getting to know my father once again. I had been so busy growing up into someone who would make him proud I forgot to have a relationship with him. I'm an idiot. No matter how long this opportunity lasts I am determined to catch hold of it.

When the sun is high in the sky and it is well past morning I finally rise from my seat to gather my purse. "Look I'm gonna head out now so I can be back to cook dinner."

My father nods in understanding and I rush upstairs to dawn some white mary-jane heels I bought for my now non existent internship.

I go to kiss my father goodbye and he freezes for a moment, taking in the sight of me. "You look different today Rach." He says this with a tone of suspicion, narrowing his eyes toward my heels and curled hair. "Any particular reason? Hoping to run into anyone?"

I scoff at this. "No daddy, this is the way normal girl's dress in the rest of the world. I promise." Leave it to my father to think that putting on a real outfit means I'm up to something. I forget that the only reason people dress up in La Push is for funerals and weddings. "The only person I was hoping to see today was Leah and I don't think I'm really her type."

He still looks slightly suspicious but seems pleased when I mention Leah. It came as no surprise to me today when he explained that she could use a friend.

I kiss him on the cheek and turn to leave but before I make it to the door my father's tentative voice stops me. "Rach do you feel alright today? I mean, do you feel….any different than yesterday?" His brow is furrowed and he is examining me closely again, as if he is looking for something.

I raise my eyebrows at him. "No dad, I don't feel any different than yesterday." I answer. Which is true other than the fact that my new resolutions have put a spring in my step, "Why?"

"No reason, no reason at all." He says before flicking on the TV and turning his attention to it.

I dig my keys out from the bottom of my purse. "Okay weirdo. I'll see you around dinner time."

When I jump in my car and start the engine I figure I should make good on my promise to reach out to Leah. Not like it's much of a hardship for me. I could use a friend too. I pull up her number on my phone, still saved from almost five years ago when we were actually close. I hope she hasn't changed it.

It rings twice before she picks up with a flat "Yeah?"

There is commotion in the background. There are dishes clattering and the incoherent conversation of many male voices talking over one another.

"Hey Leah it's Rachel. Is this a bad time?"

"Oh, hey Rachel Black." She replies loudly. Her tone is not unfriendly but I can tell she is certainly not smiling. The background noise cuts out to nothing and I assume she stepped out of the busy room. "No it's not a bad time…." There is a long pause where I hear a rustle on the other side of the phone and a whispered "Goddamnit" from Leah. I remain silent. "What's up?" She prompts finally. Her voice sounds a bit farther away now. Did she just put me on speaker phone?

"I was just wondering if you want to come to Port Angeles with me? I'm heading up there now if you're free? We could grab coffee? Do some shopping?" Now I feel like an idiot. I should have asked her yesterday, or even this morning, and if her reaction is any indication she is not incredibly thrilled to hear from me. I am remarkably unsure of myself. "I mean I totally get that it's last minute and everything. If you're not free we can just plan for later this week?"

There is more rustling and whispering before an exasperated sigh from Leah. "Sure Rachel, I'll come with you."

I'm confused but pleased. "Great! That's great! Do you want to meet somewhere or I can swing by your place and pick you up?"

Rustling, Leah cursing, and a slapping noise, "I actually just got off work but you can come pick me up here at Sam's place. I'll send you the address."

"Okay…" I say still confused and quite frankly a little concerned, but not ready to turn down the chance at having some company. Leah's clearly drank whatever weird Koolaid the rest of the reservation is on. "I'll see you in ten?"

"Sure." Leah says simply before hanging up the phone. I stare at my phone blankly for a moment. What had just happened? What the hell was wrong with people here? Why would Leah be anywhere near Sam Uley's house?

After only a few seconds Leah texts me the address and I have pulled out of our driveway. It doesn't take me long to get to Sam's despite the fact that it is on the other side of town. Considering that La Push has all of two stoplights getting around really isn't that difficult. I find myself a little shocked as pull into the long dirt driveway that my phone indicates leads to his house. Most of La Push is fairly remote but his house is even more so, surrounded by no neighbors at all and nothing but trees. The little red house is surprisingly well kept, looking cozy nestled in the shadows of the trees. It's so different from anything I had become used to in the city, but certainly not it a bad way.

As I pull closer to the house a group of boys pour through the front door to spill out on the porch. None of them are wearing shirts or shoes. What is with this town and its parade of shirtless youths?

One of the boys, who I just now realize is Seth, knocks on the driver side window while giving me a lopsided grin. I hadn't realized how much he looked like the rest of them until now. I roll down the window and leave the engine running.

"Where's Leah?" I ask, not wanting to attract any more attention. I had enough of that last night thank you very much.

"Inside, finishing up her lunch." Seth explains, that mischievous glint in his eye, "You should come in, it might be a while."

The rest of the boys, who I now realize are Embry, Quil, and another kid I think was named Jared, wait on the porch expectantly.

I want to say no and that I'll wait in the car but what good would that do? I don't want to risk the possibility of looking stuck up just because I am trying to avoid them. How was I to know that Leah was apparently spending time with this particular group of people? I had hoped she wouldn't be.

"Alright." I say, cutting the engine and letting Seth help me out of the car. No matter what can be said for the kid he's certainly grown to be a little gentleman. I feel a swell of sisterly affection before my heels sink into the earth beneath me. Ah yes, _this_ is why girls don't wear heels in La Push. I remember so clearly now. Seth takes in my appearance and his eyebrows raise in surprise.

"Dressing up for anyone in particular Rachel Black?"

I huff. What is it with the men in my life caring about why I am wearing a dress?

"Not all of us want to walk around looking like a shirtless barbarian everyday Seth." I bite back. A few of the boys on the porch chuckle.

"Come on, Leah's this way." Seth explains. The boys greet me with sheepish waves and a chorus of hellos before we walk through the swinging screen doors. Embry keeps his distance without so much of a greeting which makes me furrow my brow.

The house itself is small but homey. The furniture is worn but looks incredibly comfortable and is

arranged in a large circle on the perimeter of the room like it's setup to accommodate a large group. The decorations are sparse but tasteful making the house just charming enough to be at ease in.

Seth leads me to the kitchen where Leah is sitting slouched in her chair munching on a sandwich. She hardly looks up at me and simply nods in greeting. Sitting across from her is none other than Paul from the beach. He is staring again.


	3. Chapter 3

_Hello all! Sorry for the wait! Turns out school is hard and life get's busy! I am on break now and one of my main goals was to get this up! Thank you so much for all the feedback and thoughtful comments! There are a few important things to note about this chapter:_

 _1) Leah is one of my favorite characters and I feel like she just gets so misunderstood and mistreated in so many fics, particularly fics about imprints. Like all the other girls are "Team imprint! We like to bake things together and talk about our men's abs! Ew Leah she's mean." I'm not into that and neither is Rachel._

 _2) Leah has (understandable) concerns about imprinting in general, throw in that Paul is volatile and Rachel is only in La Push temporarily and you can see where Leah would not be the biggest fan of the situation. She is not, nor ever will she be, a villainized in this story. She is being a good friend the best way she knows how._

 _3) There are several HUGE plot points coming. I will try to post a chapter before the end of break so I don't keep you hanging. Thank you for sticking with me. I know it might be moving slow but there is a reason for all of the set up, I promise._

 _Chapter 3_

I feel like a statue, frozen in a moment in time by his stare. I don't know why I'm shocked to see him, since I have apparently stumbled into his friend's house, but his gaze still manages to catch me by surprise. He is sitting rigidly in his chair, and it is with minor disappointment that I note that he is wearing a shirt. I wonder why he has chosen to when none of the other boys seem to bother. Not that I care.

It feels like we stare at each other for an hour but it's only a second before I snap my gaze back to Leah. She is frowning deeply at her sandwich.

"Hey Leah!" I say as cheerfully as I can muster going to take a seat next to her. Obviously this guy hasn't improved his opinion of me, and for some reason that bothers me, but I'm not about to let it show. I'm determined to make the most of my time here at La Push and that includes being a friend to Leah, even if she is weird close with her ex and caught up in some bizarre guys club. "How was work?" I ask shrugging of my purse to place it on the table. I put my elbow next to it, resting my hand on my chin which is tilted in Leah's direction. This successfully blocks my peripheral vision from anyone who might _still_ be staring.

Leah looks truly shocked that I sit next to her, and even more so as I turn my full attention to her. "Um. It was fine I guess." What a wealth of colorful conversation she is. It will take more than that to deter me though, I have years of experience with foul moods after dealing with my sister for so long. It's almost a bit of a comfort really. Girls in college were all overly chipper about everything.

"Hello Rachel! It's so good to see you again!" Emily comes from the kitchen to greet me. I smile up at her and wave, momentarily shocked to see her and Leah in the same room. Emily is wearing her hair up in a high ponytail making her scars stand out even more prominently. Still, she looks to be the picture of feminine grace and domestication with a yellow mixing bowl tucked under her arm and a polka dot apron tied around her waist. I might have been a bit intimidated if she wasn't so pleasant. Emily seems to have the kind of demeanor it is impossible not to instantly adore. Still, you'd think that Leah Clearwater of all people would at least try.

"Hi Emily! Thanks for letting me drop in!" It seems to me that Emily is quite used to hosting company but I still feel odd barging in during lunch unannounced.

"Oh my goodness Rachel, please feel free to stop by anytime." She said, smile growing even wider. "We were really hoping to see more of you soon anyway." She glances at the man behind me before briefly before returning her gaze to me. "I have to finish up making these muffins but make yourself at home!"

Emily returns to the kitchen and I am left in awkward silence sitting next to Leah. My head is swimming with a million and one questions to ask her but most of them are too nosey to be appropriate with our current audience.

"Did you catch any bad guys?" I ask deciding on a safe topic like work. From my experience people always like to talk about work. "Your mom said you were a security guard or something. Next time you catch someone shoplifting can you call me so I can use a taser on them?"

Leah actually cracks a smile at this, not a full smile, but definitely something. I hear a few chuckles from the kitchen doorway where the boys have gathered. I smile widely and look at Leah expectantly.

Someone clears their throat pointedly and I realize it must be the staring dude. Leah rolls her eyes and her frown returns instantly. "Paul and I just got off our shift, and no, we didn't catch any of the bad guys. Things have been pretty slow on that front."

I notice the boys in the doorway smiling at one another as if they are enjoying some sort of secret conversation. I glare at them, or at least the ones I know, but it does nothing to deter them.

"That's Paul by the way." Leah continues dryly, clearly not amused. She waves her hand toward the staring dude on the other side of the table before turning her full attention back to her sandwich. Well at least Leah isn't fond of him… though that might not be much comfort considering that she isn't really fond of anyone.

I sigh inwardly, knowing that now an introduction is necessary. I had been hoping to avoid it but now not acknowledging him would just be openly rude.

"Hi Paul." I say as warmly as I can manage. I stand from my chair to lean over the table and extend my hand in greeting. "Rachel Black. Sweatshirt thief." I can't help but add the last part with a cheeky grin. Might as well acknowledge our disastrous first encounter considering it will be horribly awkward either way.

He hesitates, looking up at me, then trailing his gaze across my chest to my extended hand. His nostrils flare again like the other night at the beach. I hesitate for a moment. He takes a deep shuddering breath and reaches out to take my hand. His touch is like fire and I almost yelp and pull away instantly. His eyes grow wide as his fingertips brush mine, eyes not leaving where our hands are joined.

"Rachel." He says simply Adam's apple bobbing up and down.

I pull my hand from his grasp and attempt a smile at him. Maybe he has some sort of social anxiety?

"Well you may be Leah's cop partner or whatever but I claim the next taser-able offence. Got it?" Oh God. This is a disaster from start to finish. I can't stop the nervous chatter from falling out of my mouth. "Oh Jesus, what's the sentence for sweatshirt thieves around here? I'm not going to have to taser myself am I?."

He says nothing, head cocked to the side and the ghost of a smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. I realize that I desperately want to know what his full smile looks like.

"I...uh...I'll let it slide this time." He answers, and it almost sounds like a joke except for he doesn't deliver it like one and he is wiping his hands on his shorts as though they are sweaty. Maybe he's suffering from some high grade fever that is making him act like this.

"Well I'll try to keep from stealing your stuff, but I make no promises."

I turn my attention away from Paul with effort, trying not to notice how well his shirt is formed to his arms.

"Leah you almost ready?"

She's playing with the rim of her now empty plate looking at me and Paul with disgust.

"Yeah." She rises from her seat, the wood of her chair dragging across the tile floor. "Let's get out of here."

She pushes past the boys in the doorway none too gently. I feel immense relief. Gathering my purse I practically skip after her skirt swaying around my knees.

"See ya!" I say, waving my hand and not looking back, knowing I might just get sucked into another staring contest with Paul. Best to get out while I can, minimum eye contact necessary.

Leah says nothing as we pile into my car and pull out of Sam's considerably large driveway. I am not bothered much by her silence. Instead I turn on the radio and hum along to the music, tapping my thumb against the steering wheel to the beat.

We are a few miles out of La Push when Leah finally turns her attention from the window to look over at me. Her expression is sour.

"Why did you even call me?"

I glance at her briefly before turning my attention back to the road. Her arms are crossed over her chest and she looks like she is accusing me of something.

"What do you mean why did I call you? No one likes to go to Bed Bath and Beyond by themselves Leah. That's just depressing." Her expression does not change so I continue, "Besides, you're pretty much the only friend I've got."

"We are not friends." Leah replies flatly, staring forward now out the windshield.

I'm shocked by how much this statement stings, even though it is entirely true. We haven't spoken in four years. Years where I got a degree, new friends, and a life in the city. The same years where she lost her boyfriend, her dad, and apparently her dreams to ever escape this place.

"You're right." I say quietly, turning down the radio. Shame pools in the bottom of my stomach. "We're not friends, but we used to be, and I hope we can be again."

"I'm not really in the place to be making any new friends." If I was anyone else I might have been deterred by this, but I was Rebecca Black's twin sister and I was not easily intimidated.

"Well it's good we're old friends then." I wink at her though I'm not sure she sees because she won't break her stare from out the windshield.

Leah snorts and finally turns her glare to me, " I won't be your middle man for you trying to date Pa….people. I don't like being used."

I am truly shocked by this. I am annoyed by the distraction of driving and I almost swerve the car in shock. "What?" I practically gape at her but have to turn my attention to the road because the car begins to swerve. "What makes you think I'm trying to date anyone right now?"

She narrows her eyes at me. "Call it a hunch. You seem like the "fatal attraction" type of girl and I'm not really not into being a wingman for...your kind."

I narrow my eyes right back at her grabbing the steering wheel tightly. "I'm here to take care of my dad and find my jackass of a brother. That's it." I say plainly. Leah seems to be the type of girl who respects not beating around the bush. "I'm not...not interested in anything like that right now. Especially now." I think about stopping there but something makes me continue. " Fatal attractions are for idiots and I, quite frankly, resent the notion."

Out of the corner of my eye I see that Leah looks a bit shocked. Her mouth falls open in disbelief. I second guess myself for a horrifying moment and I am about to apologize when her mouth snaps shut and she lets out a snort that is something like a laugh. "You're not much like the rest of them you know. You're….weirdly...still you."

"What's that suppose to even mean, Clearwater?" I am almost smiling, but I mean what I say. I'm not like the rest of who? Of course I'm still myself. What an outrageous thing to stay.

Leah smiles. Actually smiles. I think I might pump my fist in the air in victory. "I'm just pleasantly surprised. That's all."

We pull into the parking lot of the mall in Port Angeles both still smiling. I remember coming here in middle school with my first boyfriend. I had once thought that Port Angeles was the center of the universe. It was the most metropolitan place I had much experience with before the age of fifteen. Of course I realize that it is a rather pathetic excuse for a mall now, but it still holds a certain amount of charm that can only be achieved through nostalgia.

Leah and I wander around in silence, but it's the good kind. The comforting kind. I pull her into a few department stores, ignoring her protests, and even get her to consider a few different pairs of shoes. She won't buy any of them, saying that they are a completely illogical purchase for her, but I feel a sense of accomplishment anyway.

"Leah….can… can I ask you something?" I ask, as we finally wheel our cart into a home decor store.

"If it's about what pillows you think Jake will want for his bed then no."

I laugh, as we stop to consider some fake house plants. "Do you have any idea where he is?" I've been dying to ask someone this question but it had never been the right time until now. When I pushed my father for answers he just got a sad look in his eye and said that he was safe and I didn't need to worry. Obviously I worried anyway.

Leah runs a hand through her cropped hair and looks slightly agitated. She's not annoyed, but she is certainly on edge. Shifting from foot to foot she sighs before she begins. "I don't really know much." I think for a moment she might continue, but she simply stops looking down at the toes of her shoes.

"It's just...none of this adds up, Leah." Jake had been going through a hard time. That I understood. Apparently there was some sort of nasty break up and he just kind of...cracked… ran off somewhere to go find himself. I would judge him for it if I didn't understand from personal experience so much. Still, my calls to him were constantly put through directly to voicemail and as far as I knew he hadn't been in contact with my father. He was a heartbroken seventeen year old boy, on some possible drug bender, and no one seemed to be incredibly concerned about it. No one cared. Why didn't anyone _care?_

I place a medium sized fern into our shopping cart and continue down the aisle as I speak. "When you go through a bad break up in high school you change your hair, or you drink an entire bottle of champagne, and you kiss some people you shouldn't. You don't just disappear for a few weeks to God only knows where and not tell anyone. I should report him as a missing minor to the police! I should have weeks ago!"

Leah stops short, eyes going wide. "Please don't do that Rachel. That will just cause more trouble than it's worth. He's fine. I can promise you that he is fine."

It's my turn to stop now, gritting my teeth in frustration. It is not fucking fine. Why won't people admit that it's NOT fine? Turning to face her I hear a note of desperation rise in my voice. " If it were Seth and you were in my position Leah, what would you do?"

She is quiet for a long moment, chewing almost violently on her bottom lip, meeting my gaze with a look of pity. "I…" She stops and looks like she is searching for her next words very carefully. "I will see what I can do for you about getting in contact with him." She finally says, even if it's with a resigned sigh. "I can't explain to you how, so please don't ask, but I will, and I'll see if I can get him to give you a call."

I leave our cart abandoned in the middle of the aisle way and fling my arms around Leah's neck even as she groans in protest at my affection. I squeeze her tightly, thankful for our past and present friendship. "Thank you Leah Clearwater." I think I feel a ghost of a hug in return. I pull away, straightening my dress and gathering my emotions. "Now let's go get some curtains."

The rest of the day is surprisingly pleasant. Leah and I finish our shopping, chatting amiably the whole time. We stop at a coffee shop on the way home and I try to convince her to give her number to the cute barista who flirted with us. In the end she doesn't give it to him but despite her best efforts I can tell she enjoyed the attention. I think what it must be like for her, surrounded by those men she works with everyday, only ever interacting with a female or two, the main one being her ex's new fiance. I realize she probably needs me as a friend about as much as I need her.

We make it back home before dinner. Seth insists we order an ridiculous amount of pizza and calls it in while Leah and I go about setting up the new curtain rod. I drag the record player down the stairs and we all sing along to "Here Comes The Sun" in mismatched keys. Leah actually laughs, my dad actually helps me toss some of his stained couch pillows, and Sue and Seth dance around in the kitchen. For the first time in a long time I don't want to be anywhere else.

It's not until my father and I are walking the Clearwater's to the front door and saying our final goodbyes that Leah grabs my arm and becomes quite serious. I am about to ask her what's wrong when she continues in a hushed whisper looking over her shoulder to make sure that no one else is listening. "Look...Rachel, if you want to get out of here in a few weeks, or even a month or two, please just… stay away from Paul. For everyone's sake."

I don't have time to think of a coherent response before she turns on her heels and follows her mother out our front door. I stare after her, open mouthed and confused.


End file.
